Wholeface
by Suave Boogie
Summary: It's not every day Zuko offers to take a little girl home. But that's what he did that day...


**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Avatar_.

_This idea came upon me suddenly. I found it touching, so... here we go._

* * *

**Wholeface**

* * *

_Zuko offered to take her home. He didn't really want to, but he thought maybe this one small deed would atone for some of the things he'd done._

* * *

They knew who he was, or had some kind of idea. Or maybe they couldn't or _didn't_ guess at his identity but instead knew their dislike for him was justified by the style of armor he wore. Immediately voices stilled that had been talking and some continued to carry on, not wanting it to be obvious they _noticed_ him. _Noticing_ was sometimes a bad thing. It called attention to you. Everyone wants to blend in when _they_ come around.

'Better to ignore unless called directly upon.' That was what the older ones thought. It was the younger ones, the other adults, who glared under shaded eyes. The children were oblivious, having been raised in this atmosphere. They knew no better and blinked up at the men who marched before them, curious.

* * *

Prince Zuko knew he had enemies there, but he couldn't say he really cared. He had enemies everywhere, fashioned that way after the actions of his Nation. He really didn't have a say in it.

Sometimes he felt greatness was measured by the quantity of one's enemies and the quality of one's allies; but most of the time he'd rather not think of it at all. It was too much of a jumble in his mind - what he'd been raised to think, and what he had come to believe by himself. So he set upon concentrating on one thing; the Avatar. It was easier that way, easier to be direct and driven to only one goal at a time. He categorized his priorities carefully (he even kept a list, carefully hidden away from prying eyes) and had made a few revisions as of late. Some he had always secretly believed but they had not manifested themselves until recently. He keenly remembered marking out _safety of the crew_ and placing it above the priority of _the Avatar_. Indeed, he'd always held that belief, but it had taken the incident in the storm for him to relent to it.

Ever since _that _incident he had felt more of a measure of respect from his fellow men. It certainly made life a little easier, as Zuko didn't feel he had to prove his authority quite as often as he used to (or as angrily.) He had been taught that men are only truly loyal out of fear (of one type or another.) However, gaining loyalty through simple understanding and comradeship had, thus far, worked out better. He planned on exercising that a little more, just to see if it held up.

Iroh had _certainly_ been relieved. For too long, Zuko mused, Iroh had played both fiddles. He had always kept close to Zuko, but at the same time he often offered words of explanation or understanding to the crew after their butting heads. It happened less now, but Zuko couldn't be sure if it was because his temper had quailed any. Perhaps his crew was simply more tolerant of his mood swings.

Not that Zuko wanted _friendship_, per say. In a way it came with the 'comradeship' package. Mostly he just wanted his life to be a little _easy_ for once.

However now Zuko wanted a little time alone. They had docked at a small port town some miles north on the west coast. It was a typical port town, with a bustling market and a variety of people from every nation and origin. The air held a tint of crispness in it, which promised they were near to the North Pole. It wasn't enough to be uncomfortable to the warmer climate-oriented Firebender, but just enough to give his lungs a bit of a bite when he breathed.

He, Iroh and a few of their men had unloaded and were now making their way through the streets. The rest had stayed behind to inspect and clean the ship. Iroh, as usual, insisted that he look for new and more exotic instruments to use on their infamous 'Music Night.' It actually wasn't that horrible of a tradition, but Zuko would never intentionally admit that.

And, of course, most people proceeded to go about their business as they passed through. Port towns tend to cater to everyone, as their economies depend heavily on trading. This did not mean there weren't rebels there who didn't sympathize with the Fire Nation or _like_ it, for that matter. Zuko noted many brief glances and a few glares, but they never lasted for long as the persons turned away and hurried off.

It was a relatively normal day. The sound of boots echoing on the hardened dirt streets seemed unbearably loud, though. Zuko paused and then dismissed the men, allowing them to go about their own way and experience the town. They gave their prince brief bows and then hurried off, often clustering together in little groups. Iroh, however, remained with his nephew. He breathed deeply and exhaled, his hands still in his sleeves.

"It is a good day, Prince Zuko," Iroh commented contently. Zuko did not reply, but he felt he really didn't need to. He and his uncle proceeded to walk, somewhat aimlessly. It was good to stretch their legs and feel land and dirt beneath them - it's a good change after being out at sea for a long time.

Iroh caught sight of an instrument store and chuckled quietly. "How wonderful, Nephew. We could use some more flutes."

Zuko scowled some and folded his arms impatiently as Iroh skimmed over what was offered on display. The merchant approached and rubbed his hands together, obviously getting ready to butter up to the obviously wealthy ex-general.

As Iroh and the merchant began to enter deep conversation about flutes and their uses, and which were better, and so forth, Zuko looked away down the continuous street.

"I'm going to go, Uncle. I'll meet you back at the ship."

Iroh didn't even glance over his shoulder. "As you wish, Nephew. Don't wander too far."

With an almost stifled grunt, Zuko spun on his heel and marched off. Honestly, sometimes his uncle still treated him like a _child_. But despite it all, deep inside, a little voice added _It's because he cares_. Zuko knew this to be true. However it still didn't mean he couldn't be grumpy about it.

Dirt stirred under Zuko's heavy boots as they landed and lifted. He walked with his back straight, arms curled, his eyes always glancing swiftly from left to right. Indeed he looked the part of a serious commander, about on important business. No one bothered him and some stepped wordlessly out of his way as he passed. The Firebender smirked somewhat arrogantly to himself, pleased at the respect (albeit, reluctant) he was awarded with.

He continued like that for a little while, but for how long he couldn't tell. He stopped as he reached the outskirts of the town with the last of the buildings just behind him. Grass grew about his feet and trees fanned overhead, sometimes throwing small glances of sunlight at him through their boughs.

Zuko decided that since he had come this far, perhaps he could continue for a bit while longer. Grass was a relatively nice change from dirt, as dirt was a relatively nice change from the solid floor of a steel ship. However Zuko was more careful there and treaded more lightly now, as he knew it was not in crowded markets that one could most easily be attacked - no, it was out in the wilderness, where there were natural areas to hide in and room to move.

But Zuko's senses were quiet and there was no sound other than the natural sounds of trees and wind.

There was a small hill, and Zuko fancied a small valley fanned out from beyond it. He proceeded to make his way wordlessly up its subtle slope, determined that he'd get a relatively good view of the surrounding area of land. It would give him a better idea of exactly where he was, and if there was a chance the Avatar was near. He almost expected (or perhaps, greatly wanted) to see the now familiar blemish of a white bison somewhere in the sky as he reached the top, but it was nowhere to be seen. Somewhat frustrated, Zuko tapped the tip of his boot moodily against the ground in rapid succession.

The valley was normal, the surrounding area was normal. The sky peered down at him from above and far off he could see mountains. All of it was direly _normal_. But Zuko did not want normalcy, he wanted the exact opposite; some sign, some whiff of the Avatar. He wanted a chase.

He thought that perhaps he was getting spoiled with chasing. After all, he'd spent two years previous without as much as a glimmer of hope concerning the Avatar. With the sudden re-appearance that had happened, well, Zuko had been busy ever since. He no longer spent weeks, months, aimlessly out at the sea with no one but his crew and Iroh. He did not spend wasted days in foreign cities and towns treading down pathless streets that would lead him nowhere close to the one thing he most desired.

Now he had reason, he had chase; he was a predator. It was a great feeling, and for a moment Zuko felt almost sorrowful that one day it would have to end. But that was not today, because he had to find his prey again.

Suddenly there was the sound of grass being bent awkwardly, along with a subtle shuffling noise. Without as much as a sign that he had heard it, Zuko turned and frowned.

As he had expected, it was no threat. The sound had been too soft, almost too purposeless.

The prince was correct. A small child gazed strangely back at him from a few feet away where she had emerged from the foliage. She wore a simple gray dress, with round cheeks and slightly wavy brown hair that hung loosely down her back. She was barefoot and lacked any other accessory besides maybe a few freckles. Her gray eyes studied Zuko wordlessly and she made no other move.

"What do you want?" Zuko finally demanded, his edged voice breaking the silence. His lip was curled slightly downwards, as he wanted it obvious to the child that he was displeased with her appearance.

Continued silence from the girl reigned, but she did not look away or emit any signs of fear. Impatient, Zuko stiffened his jaw and proceeded to walk determinedly back the way he came. He passed the child without a word and continued on.

However he heard her footsteps as she began to follow. Continuing for another few paces, he finally grew tired of it and ultimately stopped. The girl stopped as well and Zuko swiveled, his face taking on more of a scowl.

"Would you stop that?" he commented firmly.

The girl shuffled her bare feet before clasping her hands together in front of her. She looked to be no older than five. Her voice did not betray her as she spoke, for it was very quiet and abrupt. "I'm lost."

Zuko's scowl digressed back into a simple frown. She was lost?

It was no concern of his, in all matter of truth. He was not obligated to do anything in situations like this. Let others take care of themselves.

However, well... Zuko had never had much contact with small children. When he had been a child himself he had spent many days wandering alone and friendless throughout the palace. All the people he knew were much older than he and stern, and merely called him "Prince" and bowed to him if he passed or ignored him entirely.

"Would you like to play?" he remembered asking one of them when he was very young. The man had only laughed awkwardly and turned away to mind his own business.

Iroh was the one that had provided the most comfort, and it was he that played with the prince when he was young. He often played hide-and-go-seek in one of the small gardens and sometimes in the long and vast halls and rooms of the palace. More than once they had gotten in trouble, but Iroh had always gotten them out with his charm and unarguable logic.

But the days of play had been brief. He began to learn how to fight, and about war and politics early on. He hardly ever saw other children, and when he did, it was often from afar. And when Zula had been born she had been whisked away and he hadn't been able to spend much time with her, leading to a gap between them that seemed to only fester with time.

All in all, Zuko did not really know how to handle kids. This led him to be antsy around them and he mostly ignored them when he could. However he also felt a strange connection to them and sometimes almost felt jealous of their carefree lives.

Suddenly Zuko sighed, heaving out stale air. He couldn't be merciless to a child. They were defenseless.

Zuko had a strict honor code and was considered rather moralistic from an early age. He had never killed anyone in his life, despite popular rumor. He had never ordered his men to kill anyone either, never directly. It was always "spare those who can be, be rational." It was not his job to kill, only his job to chase. It was not people who were his focus, but the Avatar. They were bystanders. Zuko made it a rule never to harm women unless they were warriors; if warriors, women deserved the same respect and treatment that men would receive in their place. There was no gender to a warrior while in combat, so no sexist rules applied. Children were not to be bothered.

Needless to say, few others of or near his (previous) rank shared his sentiments.

"Where are you from?" the prince finally asked the girl, who had been standing by patiently.

The girl tilted her head slightly. "Sometimes I don't know."

A quizzical look passed over Zuko's face. "What are you talking about?" he asked, still trying to sound stern. Great, the child was somehow inept?

"I was born many places," the child answered. Suddenly she smiled, and that was her first thorough facial expression since she had appeared. "But I know where. Can you take me?"

"Can't you take yourself?" Zuko asked wearily.

The girl didn't reply but only looked at Zuko with a strange, almost disappointed expression. The prince sighed again and curled his fists by his sides.

"Fine. I won't let you go alone. Now tell me where you live."

The girl almost threw herself at Zuko and tugged on his leg. "This way!" She pointed forward and proceeded to walk.

Zuko followed, staying close. He let his expression remain sour and for a minute he muttered under his breath about wasting time. However he _had _relented. Now he had no choice but to follow through with his almost-promise.

Perhaps, perhaps, this one small deed would atone for other not-so-charitable deeds he had committed. Zuko chanced a glance up at the sky, as if asking the deity above to consider this offer. Of course there was no answer but somehow Zuko felt better about the situation.

After all, Iroh would never have let him leave her alone, Zuko mused. The old general was awful fond of children, often commenting that they were "full of wisdom that adults lack" and "insightful" and other such things.

"Do you know any stories?" the child suddenly asked from below Zuko's waist. She was peering up at him, almost keenly as they walked.

"No," Zuko replied simply.

"Where are you from?" the girl asked inquisitively.

A slight churning feeling developed in Zuko's stomach. "Far away," he replied. It was true enough. He simply didn't want to boast "Fire Nation" to a possibly impressionable little girl. The name might frighten her if she'd heard it used negatively before. That gave him a bad taste in his mouth.

"And you don't have any stories?" the girl asked almost dubiously. Zuko sent her a sharp glance. She only smiled.

"How did you get here?" she continued. Zuko groaned inwardly, growing tired of the insufferable questions.

"A ship."

The girl's eyes lit up. "A _big_ ship?"

"Big enough," Zuko muttered. He couldn't help but feel a festering anger inside that said _There are bigger ones. Like Zhao's. But he's an _admiral_ now so I suppose he's _entitled

"Is it fast?"

"Fast enough," Zuko replied.

The girl quieted for a few more moments and they walked in silence. Suddenly Zuko felt a small hand on his knee. He glanced down skeptically.

"Will you hold my hand?"

Disbelief raced through the Firebender's veins. What a stupid question...

Yet Zuko found the girl's little fist closing around a few stray fingers. He sighed again, fighting the urge to jerk his hand away and scold her in attempts to hide his flustered temper.

"For now," he muttered, setting his chin. The girl didn't seem to hear him and continued to walk cheerfully beside him.

Zuko continued to notice they were heading in the general direction back to the port town, but slightly at a north-veering course. Everything remained quiet and undisturbed, like either nature didn't notice them or decided to leave them alone.

"Girl," Zuko suddenly spoke, and the girl swiveled her head to look up at him. "Do you know what I am?"

"You're a boy," she replied matter-of-factly.

Zuko couldn't help but grind his teeth. "No."

The girl thought for a moment. "You're a boy made of fire." She nodded sagely.

Zuko almost stopped walking, looking a little doubtful. "You know I'm a Firebender, hm?"

"Sometimes fire bends _you_," the girl commented, and then giggled to herself.

Zuko almost went to slip his hand away but the girl's grip tightened slightly and he relented. "You're full of nonsense," he said, though his voice wasn't quite as stern as he wanted it to be.

A shack appeared through dense layers of laden branches and shrubbery. Zuko and the girl emerged into a clearing that surrounded it. Stray weeds and flowers curled and grew unkempt along the raggedy walls of the old site, and sunlight filtered through onto its patched roof. The girl slipped her hand away.

"This is my place," she said with a nod. Zuko raised his eyebrow.

"You live here?"

"Sometimes," the girl replied, and then grinned at the prince. Zuko rubbed at his temple.

"But you _can't_ live here. Not by yourself."

"I'm not by myself," the girl replied, looking puzzled.

"Where are the others, then?" Zuko snapped rather moodily. He almost had half a mind to walk off and leave the girl be, but he also had _more_ than half a mind to drag the girl back to his ship and see what Iroh would recommend for her.

The girl didn't answer. She bent over and rested her hands on her knees, blinking innocently out over the clearing.

Zuko suddenly knelt on one knee so that he was more eye level with the child. He leaned forward, raising his eyebrow as he took on an air of authority. "Maybe you should come with me," he reasoned somewhat sternly, though scarcely believing he was actually saying the words.

The girl only inclined her head a bit, not answering.

Slightly irritated, Zuko continued, "Do you know who I am, girl?"

Suddenly interest peaked in the girl's eye. She straightened up and planted herself in front of Zuko. Then she leaned over, her eyes resting on his.

She raised a hand and touched Zuko's right cheek, on the unharmed side of his face,just below his eye. Her face grew serious. "Half face," she said softly.

Zuko frowned, but the girl continued. She moved her little hand and rested the tips of her fingers on Zuko's left cheek, just below his left eye - directly on his scar. "Half face," she said again.

Zuko's eyes widened slightly as offense wafted through him. Was she making fun of him? He went to open his mouth but the girl's hand moved again. She placed one on his right cheek and the other on his left. Slowly she drew both of her hands across his face until she cupped his chin. Her eyes brightened.

"Whole face," she said.

There was a pause. Zuko wanted to stir, and yet he didn't.

"Zuko's face," she continued, not moving her hands, "is a _good_ face."

What a strange feeling, embarrassing but affirming, infuriating but calming. He blinked once, not sure how to respond to such a strange chorus of actions.

The girl drew back and then skipped off, stopping only briefly to wave back at Zuko. Then she disappeared behind the shack, laughing gaily as she did.

Zuko found himself like that for several minutes, kneeling with a strange mixture of emotions churning inside.

Half face? Whole face?

Slowly he stood, feeling suddenly light in body and mind. Then he slowly made his way back, leaving the clearing and forest behind.

He made his way back through the port town, and out onto the docks. And there was his ship, and Iroh waiting for him. The old general shaded his eyes and blinked at his approaching nephew.

"You have been gone a while," Iroh commented.

"Yes, Uncle," Zuko replied, almost walking past him.

"You look as though you've seen a spirit guide," Iroh replied, almost chuckling. Zuko paused and turned on his heel, looking slightly intrigued.

"A spirit guide?" he asked, though inwardly recoiled, hoping his uncle wouldn't go on one of his long rants and recite hundreds of proverbs to him.

Iroh slipped his hand back into his sleeves. "Ah, yes, a spirit guide. Strange specters that sometimes appear to mortal men to help them on their way. Somewhat like animal guides, as the Dragon was to Avatar Roku, as you know." Iroh suddenly chuckled. "They say the rarest is the Child Guide."

A heavy feeling trickled through Zuko's limbs. "A child guide?"

"Ah, yes. A child specter, though really it is the representation of the souls of children lost to wars past. A Child Guide has not been seen for many, many long years."

"Why do they come?" Zuko asked. Iroh looked a little taken aback at Zuko's sudden interest. Usually he grew impatient with explanations about now.

"To show men their true selves," Iroh replied. "When they are lost."

There was a moment of silence. Suddenly Zuko turned and made his way up into the bowels of his ship.

"Nonsense, Uncle," he replied stonily.

Yet even as his boots echoed against the smooth steel floor, the Firebender absently reached up a hand and touched his ragged scar.

* * *

**FIN**

* * *


End file.
